Through the Wilderness
by Shootingstar7123
Summary: A crash landing breeds new beginnings and old goodbyes. Based on a dream. Slight FemShep/Tali.


Through the Wilderness

…

A/N: This story is based on a dream I had a few months ago. I've been debating for a while whether I should post it at all, but I figured if I'm going to do it, it should be before ME3 comes out. It's a little on the weird side, but I hope you'll give it a chance.

Additional note: The phrase _Keelah se'lai _ has been interpreted as a kind of benediction, translating to something along the lines of "God be with you", "Ancestors watch over you" or even "May fortune smile upon you".

…

Unnecessary disclaimer: None of the characters, storylines, or dialogue appearing in the Mass Effect franchise belong to me.

Abstract: A crash landing breeds new beginnings and old goodbyes. Slight FemShep/Tali.

…

We didn't have time to mourn.

Survival was the foremost thing on our minds. In a state of numb shock, I took commands from the last member of my crew. "Clear the trees," she said.

Without Tali there's a good chance I would have died, and _you_ wouldn't be here either. Not many people could have rigged solar power panels that quickly. When the last of our fuel was gone, Tali's innovation meant that we could survive in our empty, broken ship.

You see, we were alone.

In our quest to stop the Reapers we were forced to destroy the mass relay system as well. The Normandy was already significantly damaged before we passed through, just one of many ships sent through distant and unknown relays to make sure both ends were destroyed. As the relay exploded behind us, we crash landed on this God-forsaken planet in a barren solar system. We were left alone in total wilderness, knowing nothing about the world outside the one we had just crashed upon.

When I reached the cockpit, Joker was dead in his chair, his bones crushed upon impact. In desperation I tried the comm, but only got static. To this day, I've never gotten a signal.

The crew had split up. We were needed in so many places at one time. I don't know how many of them survived. I don't even know if we were successful. I could have all been for nothing, and it seems I'll never know the answer.

Tali was all kept me together for months after we arrived. Because of her, the Normandy's rations were preserved, the medical equipment kept at the ready, and our shelter functioned much as it once had. Given enough time, I'm certain she would have made it flight-worthy again.

Not to say that it wasn't hard for her also. In spite of how well she seemed to hold it together, I often heard her crying, trying to keep it from me. I'm not ashamed to say we took solace from one another. When you're alone in the world, you'll be surprised how quickly your priorities change.

But the most important thing she did for me was the one thing I fought against the most.

"I think it's about time you thought about continuing the human species," Tali said one day.

"Seeing as there aren't any men here, I think that's a moot point, don't you?" I responded sarcastically.

"I'm being serious," she said, looking hurt at my affront. "Earth was all but lost, and the human colonies were targeted as well. Who knows how many humans survived!"

"Again," I began, trying to temper the sarcasm this time, "without someone for me to reproduce with, I don't see that this has any point." I was afraid of where this conversation was going. If I thought about anything outside of what I had to do next to survive, I would probably lose my mind.

Tali sighed, and held something out to me. I took them from her: two small glass tubes labeled "Miranda".

"What is this?" I asked, confused.

"I believe the human term is zygotes," she replied, gauging me for my reaction.

"Wait—" I stuttered, "You mean… babies?"

"Yes," she said. "Your children, if you want them."

I stared at the glass tubes, considering what she had said.

"I really think you should do this," she said firmly.

I handed the vials back to her. "Okay," I said, more unsure than I had ever been in my life.

Tali handled the medical equipment with a surprising amount of ease, and the procedure was finished quickly.

"What now?" I asked her nervously.

"Rest," was her command, the worst thing she could have said to me. When I was in an agitated state of mind, sitting still was the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted to run, maybe try some target practice. But she insisted that I rest, determined to do everything in her power to make this work. And that, I think, was the biggest mistake of all.

I heard her sniffling as she entered the ship. "What's wrong?" I asked her, alarmed. She hadn't cried in some time, and I was concerned at what could make her begin again now.

"Just a small cold," she said, but I worried.

A small cold developed into a dangerous fever. She pumped herself full of antibiotics, and there was nothing more I could do for her. She hallucinated, believing she was back with the Migrant Fleet, among her own people. I wished for her sake that she could have been. I did what I could, but it wasn't enough.

Only in death could I look upon her maskless face, and tell her what a true friend she'd been to me, how much strength she'd had, and how much I loved her.

Now I was alone.

I did what I could because I had no choice. Hunting to supplement the dwindling rations and repairing what I could of the ship, but technology wasn't my thing. I could repair a hull, but I couldn't fix an engine.

As time passed my actions dwindled, and I prepared for the arrival of my children. You know this part of the story. Crying out into an uncaring wilderness, I gave birth to a boy and girl. Jeffrey Anderson and Tali Hope.

And now it comes to _you_, children. You are my promise for the future. Twenty years I have lived alone here, and you have done the same, never knowing a normal life, never knowing people who were not your family. You have grown up tinkering with this ship, and I have allowed it, in hope that one day you will understand enough for us to leave this place and rediscover the galaxy and it's people. In hope that there is something left to discover.

For your sake, we must try.

_Tali, wherever you are, thank you. Keelah se'lai._

…

A/N: I figure there are probably some questions—some things were left a little vague to retain the flow of the story. Some events might also seem more than a little unbelievable, but I wanted to stay true to the dream because I found it interesting. Feel free to review or PM me if you've got questions, and I'll answer all I can. Thank you for reading!


End file.
